Hell In a Handbasket
by AngelicEmpress
Summary: The Second War is over, and the loses have been great... how are some of our characters doing? No longer a one-shot!
1. Chapter 1

Title: Hell In A Handbasket  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Intro: The Second War had come and gone. Losses on both sides were heavy, and the Dark Lord failed to regain power, but he didn't fail in his most desired mission. Harry Potter now rested in peace with several friends and colleagues. So many had gone, so much bloodshed and pain. So many sacrifices. Those who survived lived with the memories, the nightmares, and they were left to pick up the pieces of their lives with weary spirits and heavy hearts.  
  
There were those of course who become so broken down they couldn't find the courage to move on. Some took their own lives, and still more ended up with a permanent residency in St. Mungos. The trauma was just too much. And the hate, it lingered. Those on opposite sides of the fray still looked upon each other with bitter loathing.  
  
And here our story continues, on a dark alley, in the middle of a bitterly cold winters night.  
  
Dark brown eyes peered from under the hood of a cloak. All the features hidden from sight by the heavy black material. The person walked slowly among the shadows, unnoticed by most all the others stragglers on the street. Soon the person reached their destination and slipped silently into an inky little shop.  
  
The figure stopped before the counter, and though it seemed no one was around, a greasy sales-man soon appeared. He narrowed his small eyes suspiciously at the figure. "How may I help you this evening?"  
  
The person also narrowed their eyes underneath the cloak. "A pint of dementors blood, that is, assuming you still carry it." Came a smooth female voice from the protection of the hood.  
  
The salesman smiled, a nasty twisted one that showed some of his crooked, yellowing teeth. "And what would make you think I have anything like that?"  
  
"Don't play games with me. I know you've sold it here before, and a reliable source tells me you still do. Now, get me the vial so I can be on my way." She spoke sharply, leaving no room for argument.  
  
"Alright. Wait here." He spoke irritably.  
  
A moment later he was back with a small, purple vial, filled with a bluish- black liquid. "A hundred Galleons."  
  
"Eighty, or I can go elsewhere. Besides, I don't believe this sells too often." she said fingering the bottle that now stood on the counter between them. Her long, perfectly manicured finger soon slipped back out of view.  
  
"Fine." the slimy sales-man spat, clearly irritated at the mysterious woman.  
  
A velvety black satchel was thrown on the counter. It clinked as it hit due to the large amount of gold coins it contained. The feminine hand then snatched up the vial and it disappeared from view as did she when she apparated out.  
  
The sales-man stood staring at the now empty space ahead of him, before turning and making his way to the back of his shop again.  
  
~*~*~ Hermione sat calmly behind her desk. It had been two years now since she had been made Headmistress at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Not really to anyone's surprise, but it hadn't been a happy day. It took place a week after the final battle against Voldemort and his DeathEaters. Most people felt she was the best person for the job. She also taught a few DADA classes, seeing as she had faught in the war to the bitter end and lived to tell about it, though she never did. She never spoke a single word about it. She had returned terribly quiet, never speaking to most people unless it was necessary.  
  
As she sat she began to tick off the names off all the people on she knew personally that died all that same day:  
  
'Minerva McGonagall  
  
Albus Dumbledore  
  
Severus Snape  
  
Neville Longbottom  
  
Lavender Brown  
  
Parvati Patil  
  
Dean Thomas  
  
Molly Weasly  
  
Arthur Weasly  
  
Bill Weasly  
  
Charlie Weasly  
  
Percy Weasly  
  
Fred Weasly  
  
George Weasly  
  
Ron Weasly  
  
Harry Potter....'  
  
The list went on and on and as she ticked them off there was a knock at the door. "Headmistress?" the voice sounded at the other side of the door.  
  
"Come in." Hermione replied quietly, but her voice carried to the person waiting.  
  
In stepped the red-headed Charms teacher. She gave the Headmistress a small smile, and stood before her desk.  
  
"Gin, how many times have I told you not to use titles with me? Sit down."  
  
"Sorry 'Mione, but I don't want to slip up around the students." Ginny replied as she took the offered seat. Hermione waved a dismissive hand as she herself stood, as if to say, 'doesn't matter.' "So, what's wrong? You don't usually pay me a visit at this hour of the night unless something's wrong." All the sparkle had faded from Hermione's eyes years ago, and she was forever serious, never a smile escaping her, but she remained kind at heart. She looked at her good friend as she twiddled her fingers and a frown marred her otherwise pretty face. With that particular expression she seemed to have aged much more than 23 years. "Ginny? What's wrong?"  
  
The young professor sighed and looked up into her friends brown eyes, "It's just... I know it's silly, but, tomorrow is the second anniversary, since.... you know."  
  
Hermione nodded, with now a more solemn expression on her face.  
  
"Yes, well, I wanted to know if you could come with me, you know, to visit them. I know you don't like to, but I don't think I can do it alone again." Her eyes pleaded with Hermione even as she sat perfectly still, and collected. Hermione turned away from her best friend for the last couple of years, and she looked out the window. She watched as the snow fell softly on the already coated surfaces of the grounds. "Sure Gin. Just send me an owl when you're ready to go." Tomorrow was Saturday, and she would leave Professor Finnigan in charge of the school while she was gone. After the war he had also gotten a position at Hogwarts, seeing as the school was in such desperate need of instructors. The Ministry volunteered most of them because they were the most qualified. He was now teaching Herbology.  
  
Hermione sighed as she heard the door of her office open and close, notifying her that Ginny had left. 'Some things are yet to be put to peace Gin...' She thought sadly as she pulled a small purple vial from the folds of her robes. 'But not for long...'  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I hope you all enjoyed it. I don't know if I should leave it as a one-shot or not. Please review and let me know what you think.  
  
Love, AngelicEmpress 


	2. Chapter 2

So I have decided to continue this! Please enjoy!  
  
Hell in a Handbasket  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Saturday morning came much too soon in Hermione's opinion, but she had arisen with an air of confidence about her. She had dressed, and even had breakfast and there was still no sign of Ginny's owl. The last time Hermione had been to visit the memorials of her friends and loved ones had been only weeks after they were put up.  
  
Hermione visibly cringed at the memory, she hadn't lasted ten minutes. Hell ten minutes was a lifetime. She ended up running away. She just turned and ran from it all. Until that day, it hadn't seemed real. It was just too much to process at once, and the reality of it all hit her like a ton of bricks.  
  
They were gone. Truly gone, never to return again. All of them. Too many of them.  
  
The scratching at her window pulled her away from fast descending thoughts. The barn owl fluttered about, waiting to be granted access to the office. With of flick of her wrist the window swung open and the owl glided in.  
  
It dropped the note on her desk and flew right back out. Hermione stared at the tiny bit of paper sitting on her immense desk. The cold winter air blew into the room bringing with it a flutter of snowflakes. She didn't seem to notice. As long as she didn't touch the paper her eyes had become transfixed on, she wouldn't have to move, and time, it seemed, would stand still for her.  
  
The headmistress remembered her mission. 'Time never stands still, nor does it ever end...' She lifted her head, and stood up straight. After her less than pleasant trip today, she would get to work. She would once again bend time to her will, and hopefully, it would obey.  
  
Hermione grabbed the note. "By the abandoned hut." she read. She crumpled the note within her palm, and when she opened her hand, there was nothing but air left.  
  
After throwing on her cloak, she checked to make sure her most precious items were with her where they would be best protected, then she left into the white landscape. She had already informed the other professors of her short leave and she was certain they could hold things together for a few hours.

* * *

Dammit! Dammit, dammit, dammit! She had done it again. Hermione had crumbled to little pieces and had fallen to Ginny for support. This time she hadn't run, but a river of tears she had kept at bay for so long spilt fourth from her and only when she was spent was she able to stand long enough to leave.  
  
Hermione stormed in through the hall of her school. She couldn't believe herself. Of course Ginny would never dare breathe a word of what had transpired that morning to anyone, it was still humiliating. She was supposed to be the strong one. She had to be there for people, not the other way around. If she could barely keep on her own to feet because of a few graves, she surely couldn't succeed in her mission. That was unacceptable!  
  
Students practically threw themselves from their headmistress' path in fear of being trampled over. Portraits whispered amongst themselves as the furious woman continued on her uncharacteristic rampage to her private quarters.  
  
For someone who was always so placid, she looked for all the world like she would kill someone.  
  
'Tonight!' She decided, 'Everything is ready, and with enough luck it should work.' So wrapped up in her thoughts and rage she barely noticed the professor who stood directly in her path and she crashed unceremoniously into him.  
  
She looked up slightly dazed but still as irritable as ever. "Ah! Dammit Malfoy, watch where you stand!"  
  
The potions teacher raised a brow at her, "I thought it went, 'watch where you're going' and that it was generally stated by the party who was run into."  
  
Hermione glared at him, "I really don't have the time for this Draco. I have important matters to attend to."  
  
"Very well then, headmistress." He stepped around her and began walking away.  
  
Hermione thought a minute. "Professor."  
  
Draco stopped in his tracks and turned to face her, "Yes?"  
  
"I may be out for a long while. I am leaving you in charge while I'm gone. I trust you can handle the responsibility?" He didn't respond. She let out an exasperated sigh and with a flick of her wrist produced a sheet of paper. "Take this, it is my official consent to you for overlooking the place while I'm gone."  
  
"Accio parchment." The paper shot from her over to his hand. "Consider it done." And the dark professor left. During the war he had turned on Voldemort and helped prevent his rise to power. In short, he had become one of the good-guys. Funny how life is. From so much negativity, some good things do arise.

* * *

In her room, Hermione finished with her preparations. She had her time- turner, wand, and the new potion she had created. All that was left was for her to gather her courage to do what needed to be done.  
  
_'Terrible things happen to wizards who meddle with time Harry...'_  
  
The words she had spoken so many years ago echoed in her head. Well meddle with time she would. No matter the risk. She was almost ceertain it would mean death for her, but she was going back.  
  
What would happen if she, her future self, were to die in the past? It would be a nasty shock for her friends here t find her remains when the clock ran out and she was restored to her correct time.  
  
Then again, what would happen once she went back? How would things be now? There were so many questions, but she had considered them all before and going over them again right now wasn't going to help her in the least. She needed to concentrait, this was going to be the hardest mission she had been on yet. And -nobody- could find her out, if they did, it would be disastrous for sure....

* * *

That's it for now! Is it alright? Let me know please!  
  
Love,  
  
AngelicEmpress 


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